A Need So Beautiful (A Need So Beautiful #1)(5)
Author: Suzanne Young

I shake my head as I lean against the wall. To be honest, I’m tired. Drained, really. Even if I do like the lime green coat on the mannequin in the front window, I don’t have the energy to ask about it. Sarah likes to say that buying me stuff is payback for being her personal shopper. She doesn’t buy a thing, not one stitch of clothing, until I’ve seen it and commented. Not that she takes my advice. She just likes the second opinion.

I walk with her toward the register. She looks sideways at me, biting her lip. “You know who’s going to be at the dinner tonight?” she asks, as if I wouldn’t know. Like every high school, St. Vincent’s has an interesting mix of jocks, nerds, and everything in between. But there’s only one guy right now who fills at least half of Sarah’s requirements—Seth Reynolds. Seth is the captain of the swim team, and not nearly as obnoxious as his meathead friends. He and Sarah have had the whole flirty-eyes thing going for weeks, so I have high hopes for them. I know Sarah does too.

“Who?” I say anyway, feigning ignorance. I eye the coat in the window as we wait at the register.

“Seth! He’s going with his parents. Isn’t that so sweet?”

“Uh, maybe. Or maybe his parents force him to give to charity too.”

“Oh, shut up,” she says. “Anyway, I think he might ask me out tonight. Especially if I’m wearing this.” She holds up the red dress. “What do you think? Can you see anything about tonight?”

I sigh. “Sarah, I have no idea. I’m not really psychic.”

She waves me off and lays the dress across the counter. “Sure you are.”

The dark-haired cashier with an arm full of tattoos and a barbell through her lip tilts her head like she’s judging the garment. “This is hot,” she says, before she starts to ring it up.

Sarah smiles. “Yeah? Thanks.”

I feel a prickle of warmth across my cheek and I reach up to touch it. My heart slowly starts to speed up. No. It’s too soon.

“I’m wearing it to some lame dinner,” Sarah tells the cashier, but her voice is fading. “Do you think . . .”

I clench my teeth as my bones begin to heat up. Without completely freaking out, I touch Sarah’s arm. I can feel sweat gathering at my temple.

“I’ll meet you outside, okay?” I say, hoping it comes out right.

She glances quickly at me, nods, and then goes back to talking to the cashier. I see her mouth move, but I can’t hear her. I hear my heartbeat.

My legs shift, but it’s like they’re not mine. They’re taking me to the front of the store, to the window. I’m on fire now, especially my shoulder, and my head, it’s like it’s slowly imploding. As I pass the green coat a rush of wind blows through me. I stop.

The coat? I don’t see how . . . but I pause. Behind it is a flyer taped to the window, facing the street. I need to pull the flyer off the glass, but I don’t want to. I want to see Harlin. And if I get my next Need I’ll have to go wherever it leads me. I don’t have a choice.

My fingers shoot forward without my permission and pluck the paper from the glass, breaking the tape. Glancing at Sarah, I see her bent over as she signs her receipt.

With the flyer in my hands, I look down, seeing the image of the front bleed through the back of the white copy paper, but I don’t want to turn it over. I don’t want to have to go anywhere, yet I flip it to the other side.

Greens and blues splash across the page as I try to make sense of the words. But I can only read the address: 5918 W. Broadway. I blink quickly trying to read the rest, but it’s impossible. All I can see is 5918 W. Broadway.

“Ready?” Sarah asks from behind me and I jump, the paper slipping from my hands. It zigzags through the air until it comes to rest just inside the platform of the window.

My muscles release. My body exhales.

“You okay?” Sarah takes my elbow and turns me to her. Her eyes are filled with worry and when she starts looking around, I tell her that I’m fine.

She gasps and I wonder if she can tell—tell that the Need has returned and I can’t stop it. She meets my eyes accusingly and I step back from her.

“Liar!” she says. She stomps past me and for a second I think she’s going to grab up the flyer, but she doesn’t. She practically rips the coat off the mannequin and holds it up admiringly.

“You want this!” she says. “And here you are drooling over it. How many times do I have to tell you, if I didn’t want to spend money on you, I wouldn’t? God, you’re so humble you make me want to vomit.”

She laughs and holds up the coat, looking toward the registers. “Raven?” she calls sweetly. “Can you add this on the charge?”

I don’t look back but I assume the cashier agrees because suddenly Sarah is wrapping a lime green jacket over my shoulders. My fingers have almost stopped shaking and I feel close to normal. Not as good as when I left the funeral, but this is bearable. It’s like a nagging feeling; something you have to do when you don’t want to. But I know that even if I try to resist, I can’t. I’ve never been able to before.

Facing Sarah, I slip my arms into the coat.

“Do you think Harlin will like it?” I ask, tying the waist.

Sarah nods her approval. “Absolutely. Oh.” She claps her hands together. “You should totally show up at his house wearing this.” She smiles. “And only this.”

“Tempting,” I say. “But I think I’ll save that genius plan for when we’re living together.” After next year, Harlin’s going to move out of his brothers’ place and we’re going to rent a one- bedroom apartment in the Pearl District, something small but charming. I’ll be attending Portland State—even though I have no idea what to study. I’m hoping a major will come to me eventually, but so far, it hasn’t. My future is a blank slate, full of possibilities.

I haven’t told Mercy about our plans, but I’m sure she’ll approve. Or at least I hope she will.

“Aw,” Sarah coos sarcastically. “You two will be so cute playing house. Maybe you can adopt dogs to pose as children too. Dress them up in little sweaters.”

“Oh my God, shut up.”

“Harlin can go work at some filthy garage, fixing motorcycles, and then he’ll come home all dirty. And you’ll be there—his little woman—cooking dinner while wearing this jacket. With nothing underneath.”